Cut Off
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Two shot written for NFA 5 Senses challenge. Tim and Tony, non-slash. Not much plot, just some character development. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was written for the NFA Five Senses challenge. We were supposed to write about either the loss or augmentation of one of the five senses. Typically, I chose the loss. :) It's only a two shot.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine! Not mine! If NCIS belonged to me there would be some big changes in season 5. So, obviously, I don't own them.

* * *

**Cut Off  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

**Chapter 1: Loss**

"Probie! McGee! Wait!" Tony shouted as Tim disappeared around the corner of the alleyway. Tim just waved a dismissive hand in Tony's direction, still annoyed from his latest slur on Tim's writing ability.

"McGee!" Tony shouted, again, afraid now. "Come back! There's a–" His words were cut off by a large explosion and the horrific vision of Tim flying backward until he hit the wall and sank to the ground. Tony didn't remember running to him, but suddenly, there he was, looking down at Tim's motionless body. His coat was on fire; there were large abrasions on his face, along with a lump on the back of his head; and his ears were bleeding. Tony immediately put out the fire, looking on that as the most pressing problem. The problem of getting Tim to a hospital was put on hold as gunfire erupted around them. It really _was_ a trap...and they had fallen into it. Tony didn't waste any more time. He pulled Tim off the ground and dragged him into the nearest doorway. He didn't care where it was. All that mattered was getting out of the alley. Tony continued to pull him along through the darkness of the abandoned apartment building.

The flying bullets stopped, and Tony was just beginning to congratulate himself when he took another step in the darkness and felt himself falling. He had just enough time to try and protect Tim's already banged up head before he hit the ground and was knocked out himself.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim opened his eyes and realized that everything was quiet. The last thing he remembered was the terrifying slow motion approach of the flames that had seemed to engulf him. He blinked and noticed that it was completely dark. _Where am I?_ he wondered. He turned his head and groaned...or at least, he thought he had groaned. He didn't hear any sound. Someone or something grabbed his sleeve.

"Hello?" he thought he said. Again, he couldn't hear, although he could feel the vibrations in his throat that indicated he'd said _something_.

The hand on his sleeve became more insistent.

"What do you want? Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?" Tim asked, a feeling of panic growing in the pit of his stomach as he noticed again that he couldn't actually hear the words he'd said. "Hello? Is someone there?"

The hand became jarring and Tim moaned as the movement disturbed his head. Immediately, the hand disappeared. Moments later, there was a blinding light in his eyes and Tim groaned again. His headache increased twenty-fold. The light shifted away and turned around to illuminate..._Tony_. As annoyed as he had been at Tony a short time ago, Tim was never so happy to see him.

"Tony? Why didn't you say anything?"

Tony lips moved..._he must be speaking_, Tim thought with growing horror.

"I..." Tim had to stop because he was on the verge of total panic. "...I can't hear you, Tony. I can't...hear myself...I can't hear _anything_."

The look on Tony's face at this revelation was anything but comforting and Tim really started to panic. He tried to sit up, to stand up, to move away from the idea that he was deaf. Tony held him down, his mouth moving again, but Tim couldn't read his lips and he couldn't hear him. His headache was almost blinding now and the rest of his body didn't feel much better. His extreme anxiety didn't help.

"Where are we, Tony? What happened? Why am I deaf?" Tim asked, even though he knew that he wouldn't be able to hear the answer.

Tony spoke again. This time, Tim thought he caught the word _Probie_. _Of course,_ he thought wryly. _What other word would I be able to understand coming from Tony?_ Then, Tim noticed, for the first time, that Tony was not unscathed either. He had a large gash on his head and was a lot more disheveled than Tim would have expected. He also looked very worried...a bad sign.

Tim opened his mouth to speak again, but this time, Tony bypassed trying to _tell_ Tim what to do and just covered his mouth with his hand. He mouthed very slowly _Quiet!_

"What is it?"

Tony sighed and looked completely exasperated. He covered Tim's mouth again and repeated the command. Tim almost tried to speak again. He was so frightened at that moment, that he couldn't seem to stop talking. It was almost as if he thought that if he spoke enough, his hearing would spontaneously return. Tony looked off to the right. Tim tried to sit up and look as well, but Tony pushed him back down, his mouth moving in an obvious prohibition of movement. Tim tried to see beyond the small halo of light from Tony's flashlight; however, there was nothing but darkness. Whether or not Tony could see anything else was unknown.

Tim felt the hard ground beneath him and decided to focus on that instead of the fact that he had lost a very important sense. He was lying on concrete. The alleyway had been asphalt, of course. Equally obvious, was the fact that they had to be indoors somewhere since it wouldn't be as dark if they were outside...even at midnight. Actually, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he noticed a faint glow, as if they were just beyond the reach of a light source.

Then, suddenly, Tony hauled at his arm and dragged him into an upright, and altogether uncomfortable position. Tim cried out against the renewed pain in his head (and the rest of his body). Tony didn't bother to silence him this time which was also quite worrisome. Instead, he dragged Tim along, urging him faster, looking back over his shoulder more than once. Tim tried to make his legs move, but his head was spinning worse than a gyroscope. He kept seeing lights flashing in front of his eyes as he strove to remain conscious and not add to Tony's difficulty by being total deadweight. Tony looked at him only once during their frantic flight, and his face was not by any means more calm. He said something...but the only thing Tim understood was his own name...his first name. That frightened him more than anything that had happened so far. Tony only did that when it was really serious.

Tim had never noticed how much he depended on his hearing to tell him where he was and what was going on. Now, granted, he knew he wasn't up to full form even beyond his deafness, but he couldn't tell if someone was following them. If someone was waiting for them...heck, Tony could simply be taking him to the nearest strip club and Tim would have no idea. He grinned a little at the thought but promptly dismissed it. This was not the time for jokes...or noise apparently.

Then, Tony jerked to one side and fell to the ground, dragging Tim down with him. Dazed and confused, Tim sat up, held his head to keep it from falling off, and looked at Tony. There was a deep graze on his temple...and a lot of blood. Tony looked to be completely unconscious. Tim panicked again; his heart felt like it was beating so quickly that it would pound right out of his chest. If Tony had been shot, then the people they were running from couldn't be very far away...unless it had been a lucky shot in the dark. Tim tried to pull Tony upright, but he could barely remain upright himself, and that meant that any attempt to save the both of them by being some sort of Hercules was doomed to failure. Tim turned from side to side, trying to ignore the pain and the dizziness as he moved his head. In the dim light, he saw an alcove, nearly hidden by wooden crates. There was just enough room for Tony in there. If the people who were after them were close, it was all over, but it was probably all over anyway. Tim figured that he might as well try to _do_ something before that moment came.

So, gritting his teeth, he grabbed Tony's arms and dragged him painfully over to the alcove. He wrapped a rag around his head and shoved Tony inside. Then, he took off at a stumbling jog...which lasted for only a few steps before he had to stop and take a rest. It was still dark, and he didn't know where he was headed, but at least he was doing something.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony opened his eyes, surprised that he was still alive. He had expected to be dead. He looked around and noticed that he was tightly wedged into a small indentation in the wall. Tim was nowhere. Now, completely frightened and worried, Tony sat up, groaned softly to himself and pulled himself out of his hiding place. The empty basement was so quiet. _How long was I out?_ he asked himself. _And where's McGee?_ He picked up his gun and began to advance slowly through the darkness, trying to find...someone. He didn't dare speak, and if Tim was still deaf, it wouldn't help anyway. Instead, he inched his way along, blinking the black spots out of his eyes, searching for a way out, for the bad guys, or for his partner.

He was so intent on the way ahead of him that he didn't notice the body laying on the ground. He tripped over it, and felt his heart in his mouth before he realized that it wasn't Tim. He sighed shakily and turned the man over. He was dead, bullet wound to the chest. Tim had been alive for awhile at least. Tony continued on his way and finally found the stairs he'd been looking for previously. They were rickety and looked rotten, but at least they were stairs. However, he couldn't leave without being sure that Tim was safe.

Then, he heard an overly-loud voice, a very welcome voice.

"I can't _hear_ you! I can't hear anything! I don't know what you want."

_Uh-oh. That's a bad sign._ Tony guessed that Tim was in trouble. He followed Tim's pleading voice which was not decreasing in volume at all.

"Where's your partner?"

"I can't understand you! Couldn't you...write it down or something?"

Tony smothered a laugh. The man seemed a little out of his depth as he demanded information from Tim once again. However, there was the added danger that he would just get fed up and kill Tim anyway. Tony came around a corner and saw Tim hanging limply off an exposed pipe. His gun dangled uselessly in his left hand. He looked exhausted, like he was beyond fear, resigned to whatever was going to happen. Tony didn't like to see that look on anyone, least of all Tim, who had bounced back from quite a bit over the years.

Carefully, he positioned himself right behind the man. Tim wasn't even looking anymore, just waiting for the end.

"Looking for me?" Tony whispered menacingly in the man's ear.

To his credit, the man didn't jump at all, although he did stiffen.

"Drop the gun." When he didn't immediately comply, Tony added, "Drop it or I'll kill you where you stand."

Nearly snarling, the man dropped the gun.

"Good. Now, kick it toward my partner over there. Do it."

"Your _partner_ is an idiot."

Tony smirked. "That's what you think. Do as I say."

The man kicked the gun and Tim flinched. Surprised at the sight of his erstwhile killer's gun sliding toward him, he looked up...and his eyes widened in disbelief at Tony's grin from behind his prisoner.

"Tony!" he said, still speaking too loudly.

Tony just nodded and gestured to the gun. Tim bent down and picked it up. He pointed it at the man, although Tony could see that his hand was shaking. Tim was at the end of his endurance. Quickly, Tony got out his handcuffs and pulled the man's hands behind his back.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Jesse Clipton, attempted murder of two federal agents, obstruction of justice, and anything else that may just come up in our investigation," he said. He held out his hand to Tim, indicating that he wanted his cuffs as well. It seemed to take awhile for Tim to understand, but his eyes were getting pretty glazed. A collapse was well on its way and Tony wanted his prisoner completely restrained before that happened.

"Move it. Over here by this pipe," Tony ordered, pushing the man over by a waist-level pipe sticking out of the wall. He cuffed the man to the pipe with Tim's handcuffs and then, holstered his gun, just in time to catch Tim as he fell unconscious. "I got you, Probie. Don't worry about a thing."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim opened his eyes, a little furtively, and was happy to see that it was light again. In place of the absolute silence that had reigned before, there was a ringing in his ears...and beyond that...just a hint of what might be real sound. Nothing truly discernible yet, but it gave him a thrill to realize that his deafness might not be permanent.

He caught a trace of movement out of the corner of his eye and he saw Tony, leaning back in a chair, mouth wide open, asleep. Tim smiled as he decided that Tony was more than likely snoring. One benefit to being deaf. His eyes darted to the door as he noticed it open. In the short time that he had been afflicted with his deafness, he had already begun compensating with other senses. A doctor came in, obviously speaking.

"I can't hear you," Tim interrupted.

The doctor smiled with a trace of embarrassment and searched through the file in his hand. He handed a paper to Tim who took it and read.

"This isn't permanent?" he asked, immediately upon finishing.

The doctor shook his head, smiling encouragingly.

Tim looked down again. "My hearing will come back?"

The doctor nodded.

"How long?"

The doctor leaned over and pointed to a section of the paper.

"One to two _months_?!" Tim said, aghast.

The doctor shook his head.

Tim sighed. This was incredibly frustrating. He watched as the doctor began to write on another piece of paper. After a moment or two, he handed it to Tim.

"Oh, I see," Tim said. A week or two of gradually improving hearing was certainly better than one or two months, but still, that was such a long time to be without sound. He hadn't even been conscious for an hour yet, and he was already sick of not hearing anything. He looked over at Tony who appeared to be still sleeping. Looking back to the doctor, he asked, "Is Tony okay?"

The doctor nodded vigorously.

"Good. Nothing serious?"

The doctor shook his head. Then, he smiled off to Tim's right and Tim felt a hand on his arm. He looked over and saw Tony, no longer sleeping, grinning. He spoke, and again, Tim only caught the word _Probie_ amongst the mishmash of shapes. Tim sighed in annoyance, but then he grinned back. Whatever Tony was saying, Tim couldn't hear it, and he could only appreciate the fact that Tony was _there_ and apparently _had_ been there for awhile.

"Thanks, Tony," he said.

Tony mouthed _thanks_ back. Tim knew that once his hearing was back and he was okay again, Tony would be back to normal with teasing and such, but right now, he was being a friend and Tim accepted it for what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Healing**

_Three weeks later..._

"Can...you...hear...me...Probie?" Tony said loudly. "I said it over and over again, and McGee just kept asking who was there and why no one was saying anything. I was trying to get him to be quiet, but Probie never could keep his mouth shut..." Tony went on to elaborate at great length all of Tim's statements during his brief period of deafness due to perforated eardrums from the force of the explosion. Abby was laughing delightedly and Ziva was pretending not to listen as she examined the display on Abby's computer, but she smiled every so often at a particularly well-done impersonation. Tim gritted his teeth and reminded himself that Tony had been there for him when it mattered. That was important.

After a couple of minutes of trying to be noble, however, Tim couldn't stand it anymore and left the lab. He hadn't admitted it to anyone besides Gibbs yet, but the tinnitus was still bad enough at times that his doctor was considering surgery. The only reason he had told Gibbs was because he'd need some more time off. He also still had trouble detecting sounds at the edges of his hearing. Tim swallowed as the elevator rose to the bullpen. He was painfully conscious of the vulnerability of his hearing at this point. He didn't dare fly or even blow his nose. He had been obsessive when it came to keeping his ears clean and protected. He was so afraid of losing it again. He had felt so helpless in the darkness, running through the tunnels, trying to get away from someone he couldn't hear.

He still had nightmares about what had happened down in that underground maze. Completely silent nightmares, somehow worse than any horror movie soundtrack. He felt the danger getting closer and closer to him. He broke out in a cold sweat and kept turning around to see behind him, straining his eyes to make up for his lack of hearing. He had run away from where he had stashed Tony, trying to draw them from his hurt friend and had come face to face with one of them. He had fired on instinct. He had seen the gun in his hand, caught the look of anticipation on the man's face and he had fired, point blank into the chest. He hadn't heard the gun go off, but he had felt it. He hadn't dared stay and check to see if he was dead. There was still someone else to run from. And run he had...for a few seconds before being cornered. He had been so tired...he felt as though his life was over, but he had tried desperately to communicate, dreading the idea that he wouldn't even be able to hear the gunshot that killed him.

Tim just couldn't joke about that.

As he sat at his desk, his cell phone rang. When his doctor's name came up on the display, he went a little pale. He was supposed to find out today whether or not surgery was necessary.

"Timothy McGee," he said when he answered. He listened intently, trying to ignoring the ringing that had surged in the last few minutes. "Yes, I understand. Yes, my boss knows already. I'll tell him. Tomorrow? So soon? Of course. Yes, that should be fine. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

Tim hung up and look at his hands, which were shaking. He shouldn't be so frightened. Tympanoplasty was an incredibly safe and effective surgery with only rare occasions when problems occurred. Yet, that meant so little at this moment, while he was feeling abandoned and nervous. Maybe it was because he knew that he wasn't going to tell anyone besides Gibbs about the surgery and no one would know if it went wrong. While Tony had been quite supportive during the time that Tim's hearing had been slowly returning, Tim's return to work had signaled the return to their normal interactions: conversations heavily-laden with teasing and jokes at his expense. When Tony was this way, he couldn't tell him important things, out of a possibly-unjustified fear that Tony would just poke fun at him. Ziva was...well, she was singularly intimidating, despite the mellowing that had gone on over the last couple of years...besides, she laughed at him, too, and a surgery that was as minor as this one would not impress her, nor would his overblown anxiety. Abby would freak out and not really help him stay calm. No, he would have to fly solo this time.

"Well, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

Tim jumped and looked over at Gibbs who was sitting at his desk. "What, Boss?"

"What's the word?"

Tim shrugged in feigned unconcern. "I need tomorrow off. My doctor decided that surgery is the best option to fix my hearing."

"It's not getting better?"

"It is...just not as quickly as it should be. There was a minor infection last week that bothered him. So, will that be a problem?"

"How many days?"

"Well, that depends on how the surgery goes," Tim said, trying not to let his nervousness show. "Tympanoplasty has a success rate of over 90, but I'm not supposed to come back to work for five days after the surgery. I won't be out in the field for a couple more weeks at least." He flinched a little, expecting punishment for not healing quickly enough.

Instead, Gibbs gave him an almost pitying look. "That's fine, McGee. You're not back in the field yet anyway. Let me know how long."

"I will." Tim didn't add _if I survive_, but he was thinking it even as he derided it as overly-dramatic. He turned back to his work on his computer as the ringing took precedence over real noise once more. He shook his head briefly, trying to get rid of the noise. A shadow fell across his desk, and he looked up.

Gibbs' mouth moved. The tinnitus covered up Gibbs' words and Tim had to ask, "What did you say, Boss?"

"Are you all right?" he repeated, slowly and a little more loudly.

Tim stared at him for a long moment. "Of...of course. It's not a big deal. It'll be over before I know it. It's not even a surgery that requires a hospital stay. I'll go in tomorrow; they'll put me out, do the surgery, and I'll be home before dinnertime. There's nothing to worry about. Not a thing. Really. ...it's...nothing...Boss..." Tim trailed off as Gibbs raised his eyebrows but didn't say a word. The ringing faded away, leaving Tim listening to nothing but silence. He looked down, flushing with embarrassment, and muttered, "I _should_ be fine. I'm not."

"You don't have to be fine."

Tim shrugged again, determined to deal with it. "So, it won't be a problem, me missing work for a few days?"

Gibbs smiled knowingly. "No, McGee. It won't be a problem."

"Thanks, Boss."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Where's McGee?" Tony asked the next morning.

"I do not know," Ziva answered. "He has not come in yet."

"Boy, he's going to be in trouble if he's late."

"He's not late," Gibbs said as he walked off the elevator. "He took a few days off."

"Why?"

Gibbs looked from Tony to Ziva and realized that Tim hadn't told anyone about his surgery. He debated whether or not he should tell the secret Tim had kept. Abby didn't know either. It looked as though Tim had only told Gibbs...and probably only because he'd had to.

"He's having surgery this morning."

Tony and Ziva both stood up in amazement and stared.

"What?" Gibbs asked. "You didn't know?"

They stared, first at Gibbs and then at each other. Why wouldn't Tim have told them?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"You ready, Agent McGee?"

Tim was sitting on the gurney, clad in a hospital gown. He nodded mutely.

The doctor put a kind hand on his shoulder. "I understand why you're nervous, but this is as safe as a surgery can be."

"I know, and I'll be really happy to be able to get all my hearing back..."

"...but this is a little frightening, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"We could still do a local anesthetic instead of a general if you'd prefer that."

Tim shook his head. "No. I don't think I'd like laying on the table and knowing that you are cutting into my ears," he said and laughed a little.

"Okay, then. Lay down and the anesthesiologist will be right in."

Tim did as instructed and grimaced as the ringing in his ears surged to the forefront of his hearing again. It wasn't that he really thought it was going to be fatal...not really...it was just that he depended on his hearing for so much. He didn't think he'd ever figure out how deaf people really managed. He knew they did...and he knew that they didn't even think of it as a disability...but he did. He didn't want to go through adjusting to never hearing again. He liked the sense too much to want to lose it. He swallowed and closed his eyes, trying not to cry.

"Agent McGee? Are you ready?"

Tim opened his eyes and fastened them on the anesthesiologist who had just entered. He simply nodded. After she did her work, she asked him to count backwards...like always.

"Count backwards from 100."

Tim was already almost out, but he suddenly remembered a Bill Cosby sketch about getting his tonsils out. He smiled and began to count. "One hundred...ninety-nine...nine.."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"McGee? Are you awake?"

Tim was confused. He could have sworn he was hearing Ziva's voice.

"His eyes are closed, Ziva. He's still sedated."

And Tony.

"Shh! You're going to wake him up!"

Abby...

"That is the point, Abby."

Ziva again. How did they all know? He forced open his very droopy eyes and then closed them again as the room began to spin.

"Tim!"

He winced at Abby's voice.

"Hey, Abby," he said quietly, trying to stop his head from spinning around on his shoulders...or maybe it was the room.

"How are you feeling?"

Tim opened his eyes again. Abby, Ziva and Tony were all leaning over his bed and then the room began to spin again. His eyes closed.

"Dizzy. Like I just had surgery on my ears."

"Wonder why in the world that would be, Probie?"

Tim couldn't roll his eyes because they were closed, but he thought it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Gibbs told us about your surgery. Why didn't you?"

Gibbs...well, Tim had never specified that he wanted to keep it a secret. "I didn't want to."

"Why not?"

Tim found himself wondering why he had wanted to get his hearing back. This was not the melodious sound he'd been hoping for.

"What would you have said, Tony? What joke would you have made?" Tim opened his eyes once more and was happy to find that the room was remaining stationary. He looked at Ziva and Abby. "Would you have laughed at whatever he said?"

They didn't answer.

"I didn't want that. I didn't know whether you would joke or not, but I couldn't stand the possibility...not this time. That's why."

The door opened and Tim's doctor walked in. "Ah, good. You're awake. The surgery went well. I foresee no problems, but I'll want you in here next week for a check of the grafts. We'll monitor them for the next few weeks and barring any complications, you should be fully functional within a month."

"Great," Tim said, but he didn't look at his teammates. "When will I be released?"

"Give it about an hour for the anesthesia to wear off, and then you'll be free to leave. You're friends of Agent McGee's?" the doctor asked brightly.

The three shuffled their feet for a moment in embarrassment. Tim looked at them and then sighed.

"Yes, they are...unfortunately," he answered, smiling a little.

The doctor felt the awkward tension and excused himself.

"Thanks for coming by, guys. I'm fine. I'll see you later," Tim said.

The dismissal was obvious and they awkwardly excused themselves. After they left, Tim let his eyes close again. He felt kind of bad about how he'd acted, but maybe it was about time they realized that not every joke was funny. Still...they _had_ come...they _had_ been there, but the fact remained that they only seemed to care when Tim was in danger. That wasn't enough, not by a long shot.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_One week later..._

Tim came back to a muted bullpen. Tony and Ziva seemed to be walking on eggshells around him. Gibbs had obviously noted the change, but he never said anything. Tim wasn't sure why this had happened. He didn't get why this time they had changed when every other time, his complaint had fallen on...he shuddered to use the expression..._deaf_ ears. Abby was much the same. Tim tolerated the tension for a full day before he lost it.

"For heaven's sake, knock it off!" he said the next afternoon.

"What do you mean, McGee?" Abby asked.

Tim rolled his eyes. "You're acting like...like you actually listened to me...only you took it wrong."

"Actually listened?" Ziva repeated.

"Yeah, Ziva. What I said in the hospital is nothing I haven't said before. Why was that time any different? I didn't expect you to suddenly feel as though you couldn't even speak in my presence. If I offended you, I'm sorry...but stop acting so..._staid_."

"Staid? What does that even mean?" Ziva asked.

"Solemn, sedate, decorous...none of which describe any of you," Tim said.

"Tim, you had surgery...one that you had to have known about for a while before it happened...and you never said anything," Abby said. "Were we that bad?"

"No worse than you usually are," Tim said.

"Then, what made this different, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Sometimes, it's just not funny, Ziva."

"You could have mentioned it."

Tim looked at them all. He didn't like confrontations and this was turning into a confrontation.

"I didn't want you to laugh. It's not as though I can't take the teasing usually. I'm used to it, but this wasn't funny," he said softly.

"Why not, McGee?" Tony asked, breaking his self-imposed silence.

"I still dream about...being down there...and not being able to hear," Tim confessed. He'd never told anyone about his dreams. "I couldn't see very well. I was hurt; you were unconscious, Tony...and I couldn't hear, but I knew they were after me. I just couldn't hear them getting closer...but I could feel them. I can't laugh about that."

There was another long drawn-out silence.

"I'm sorry, McGee," Tony said finally.

Tim shrugged. "I wasn't expecting an apology. I wasn't expecting anything to change. I just...wanted you to know...to know that there's a reason why I don't think it's funny."

Tony looked serious. "Then, I'm really sorry, McGee. I'm sorry that you didn't think I'd care...I mean, I'm not going to be Florence Nightingale, but I could have stopped, you know."

Tim smiled. "Well, you're the wrong gender for Florence Nightingale, Tony...but I'll remember that the next time a bomb explodes in an alleyway while I'm there."

Somehow, that was enough. The jokes started up again, but they weren't about Tim's temporary deafness...at least not for a few weeks. The ribbing continued, but the air between them all was clearer than it had been.

Maybe something good had come out of all that after all.

FINIS!


End file.
